Fallen Angel of the Rocks
by Forgotmytea
Summary: Don't bother reading: no updates coming. Apologies, but I've decided to abandon this after realising just how bad it is. I know it's not good ff etiquette to abandon a story halfway through, but it doesn't seem salvageable. Again, sorry.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter I 

The streets were silent and deserted. St Canard was surprisingly quiet tonight; Megavolt was in the lighthouse, muttering to a bulb he held lovingly in both hands, Bushroot running around his hideout, talking to the plants as he added fertiliser, pulling weeds out, and Quackerjack alternating between rolling on the floor laughing hysterically, and talking to Mr Banana Brain. But to say that the streets were villain-free tonight would be a mistake.

The paint was long dry, the turpentine having run off long ago. Overhead, the clouds darkened, and the first few drops of rain started to fall. What started off as drizzle soon became a downpour, drenching the streets. The water flowed along the road, mingling with the paint, slowly invigorating it, changing it into a liquid. A line of white flowed out from the main puddle of paint, branching into three different lines. Slowly, each line lifted up, followed by the main line, forming a grotesque parody of a hand. The thing groped around, blindly, grabbing a newspaper and a half-eaten Hamburger Hippo burger as they blew past before finally grasping the object it intended. But the thing was crude, ungainly, and dropped it. It slobbered at the object for a while before finally getting a hold of it, lifting the glowing paintbrush into the air.

Slowly, clumsily, it started painting, using the puddle as its palette. Soon, another arm had been painted, though less rudimentary that the first. This actually had four fingers, encased in a black, fingerless glove. Taking the brush from its crude counterpart, it started painting with incredible dexterity, faster and faster.

In a matter of minutes, she stood in the rain, her hair and clothing drenched. With a quick flick of the brush, she corrected the first limb, changing the ungainly object into a perfectly shaped arm like her other. Looking around furtively, she scanned the streets for any sign of law enforcement. Satisfied, she finally allowed a smile to twist her beak upwards. That fool Darkwing Duck had thought that he could kill her, stop her from righting the wrongs that had been done by the bourgeois classes. She shook her head, almost pitying him, were it not for the fact he had destroyed her once. It had been mere luck that had allowed her to paint herself again, that had allowed the paint to flow into that crude hand-shape.

Her smile slowly began to grow into a maniacal grin, spreading across her face. _You can't keep a good daringly innovative, pseudo, anti-neo, post-modern deconstructionist down_, she thought. Flicking her brush again, a pair of purple wings appeared on her back, flexing in the night as she arched her back, laughing now. _Oh, yes, I won't - I can't abandon my crusade to right the wrongs done to art_, she thought. _But first, Darkwing Duck, you will learn that some bourgeois art-hating clown in a costume will not stop Splatter Phoenix!!_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter II 

"Launchpad, will you stop eating!?" screamed Darkwing, knuckles white as he clutched the Thunderquack's dashboard.

"Heh, sorry DW, but you just can't go on a case on an empty stomach" his jovial sidekick replied.

"Yes" responded Darkwing, through gritted teeth, "but you can't go on a case if you crash while eating!"

"Relax DW, when do I ever crash?" replied Launchpad. Closing his eyes as the Thunderquack did another double somersault, Darkwing fought back the sarcastic response that was on the tip of his tongue. "Just – focus on getting us to the crime scene" he replied. "In one piece" he added under his breath.

With a violent jolt, the Thunderquack slammed into the floor, staggering upwards as the landing struts deployed too late.

"Heh, see DW, no problems with the flight!" declared Launchpad.

"Yeah…. Right…" replied Darkwing, still dazed after the flight. Shaking his head, he dashed inside the bank, followed closely by Launchpad.

Bursting into the bank, gas gun drawn, Darkwing scanned the darkened room. "Our courageous crimefighter carefully crawls forward, using caution and cunning to close upon the crook" he muttered as he crept forward. Gathering his cape about him, he drew a smoke canister.

"I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am the bounced cheque you just weren't expecting! I am – what?" Darkwing's heroic intro was cut short as he saw whom, or more precisely what, was robbing the bank. In amongst the piles of gold and stacks of money flitted round steel balls, each with 2 small protruding metal rods, wrapped in bronze wire. Electricity sparked off them at random intervals, occasionally hitting another one and causing it to pause for a moment as the electricity coursed through it. Some of them had claw-like arms instead of the antenna, and were manhandling the money onto a trolley.

"What – how?" Launchpad had arrived behind Darkwing. "DW, what are those things?" Not wishing to appear ignorant, Darkwing struck a heroic pose.

"Villains, Launchpad, most malevolent miscreants. Suck gas, evil-doers!" With that, he took aim with his gas gun, but before he could fire, one of the strange creatures turned round, letting a burst of electricity loose straight at Darkwing. Hitting the cartridge, the electric beam caused the gas cartridge to detonate, leaving Launchpad and Darkwing choking in a cloud of gas as the creatures abandoned their work, fleeing with whatever money they had already loaded onto the cart.

Waving his arm madly in an attempt to clear the air, Darkwing finally managed to stop choking. As the smoke cleared, it revealed the room, devoid of electric creatures – and a substantial amount of money. Pulling the corners of his hat down in frustration, Darkwing turned to his trusted sidekick. "Launchpad, start up the Thunderquack. There's only so far they can run."

"But DW, heh, they're pretty small" replied Launchpad. "How are we going to find them?"

Biting back another comment, Darkwing thrust his sidekick towards the window. "Heh, oh yeah, it's nighttime" replied Launchpad, as he watched the occasional electric flicker in the black, moving away from the bank.

Rocketing after the strange creatures, Darkwing gazed down through his binoculars. "Launchpad!" he exclaimed. "They're heading for the train station!! Quick, set down here!" With a bone-shaking crash, the Thunderquack landed (in a loose sense of the word). Jumping out, Darkwing gave a shout of surprise as the train started to pull away, the windows glowing yellow, small shapes sparking inside as they floated about. "Get the Ratcatcher!" shouted Darkwing, already running after the train. "Meet us at the next station!!"

Feet pounding on the ground, gravel being thrown up, Darkwing dived after the train, managing to grab a rail just as it started to speed up. With a monumentous effort, he hauled himself aboard, coming face to face with two of the strange floating balls. "Hah! You picked the wrong duck to mess with", he growled, taking up a basic Quack-fu stance. Lashing out at the closest one, he jumped up in shock as 10,000 volts flooded through his body. Pulling himself up, he grabbed the metal rail for support, an idea suddenly flashing into his head. With a grunt, he strained at the rail, pulling until the veins stood out on his face. But the metal railing remained stalwartly in place. "Alright, you metal miscreants!" he declared, turning round. "Let's see just how _connected_ you two are!" With that, he hurled his gas gun at the two creatures. The weapon hit them dead on, connecting the two creatures for an instant through the metal body of the gas gun. Blue light erupted everywhere, sparks flying, an electric buzz filling the air. Fried, the two metal balls collapsed to the ground, motionless. "Yep yep yep" grinned Darkwing, retrieving his gas gun, "another _shocking_ performance from the masked mallard!" Bounding down the carriage, he headed for the engine.

"I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am the passenger who is never satisfied with the highly priced return fare! I am…. Darkwing Duck!" So saying, with his trademark smoke dissipating, Darkwing jumped down from the roof of the carriage, landing in the engine. Drawing his gas gun, he aimed at the shadowy figure of the driver. "Suck gas…. Megavolt!?"

The weasel-like figure in the yellow jumpsuit turned, jumping in surprise at the sight of Darkwing.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed in a high-pitched voice. "Get off my train!!" With that, he launched himself at Darkwing, the two of them wrestling on the floor, Darkwing's gun forgotten. Darkwing was the superior fighter, but Megavolt had a wiry strength that allowed him to keep Darkwing at bay as the two grappled. Darkwing rolled over, pushing Megavolt's head against the metal floor, his grasping hand finally closing on his gas gun, pushing it against Megavolt's head.

"Relent, evildoer!" he crowed, but before Megavolt could reply, two hands grabbed Darkwing, lifting him bodily off the train, and hurling him onto the embankment. He got a glimpse of some kind of metal monstrosity, multi-armed, with a single blue eye, accompanied by a shadowy figure standing on the roof, before the speeding train sped out of sight.

"Heh, where you been, DW?" asked Launchpad as Darkwing, costume torn, covered in dust, staggered into the station. "I was waiting for your signal to follow the train!"

"Never mind the signal, Launchpad!" exclaimed Darkwing. "Back to the Thunderquack! Give chase!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter III**

Once again, the Thunderquack sped through the night sky, following the railway line as it led towards the docks.

"The docks!" exclaimed Darkwing. "That must be where that electric evildoer is hiding! Hmmm – not very Megavolt-y, though – I'd have expected him to go for someplace with a bit more power."

"Maybe he's trying to throw you off the scent?" suggested Launchpad.

"Hah! It'll take more than a change of hideout to lose me, Darkwing Duck!"

"Our daring hero, the super sensei of stealth, silently sneaks swiftly into the sinister felon's hideout" Darkwing muttered to himself as he crept across the deserted docks, quickly closing with the nearest warehouse. "Launchpad, you take the next one – I'll search in here. Remember, no mercy – we're dealing with a highly unbalanced villain here!"

"Heh, righto DW" replied Launchpad, moving with slightly less grace than Darkwing towards the next warehouse. Sighing in exasperation, Darkwing stalked into the warehouse.

Bursting in, Darkwing swung his gas gun about, eyes searching in the darkness. "It's no use, Megavolt! I'm about to pull the plug on you" he shouted, desperately glancing around for any sign of a sudden attack; an electric burst, or an anvil, or something. When nothing came, he finally put away the gas gun, turning to leave. "I hope he's close, I don't want to spend all night thinking of different puns for each warehouse!" he muttered. But, just as he was about to leave, he paused, hearing something behind him. Turning round, he scanned the dark again. "While the wily villain thinks he can outwit our handsome hero, his highly accurate hearing heralds a harsh new hell for our malicious miscreant" Darkwing growled, prowling forward into the warehouse again. Suddenly, the silence of the night was broken by a harsh, industrial sound that sprang out of nowhere. Darkwing gulped – he knew that sound anywhere. Slowly looking up to the top of the nearest crate, his fears were confirmed.

With a hiss, Negaduck jumped off the crate, already swinging his chainsaw down at Darkwing. With a cry, Darkwing dived to one side, sparks erupting as the chainsaw slammed into the concrete.

"Come here" muttered Negaduck, lunging again with the chainsaw. Darkwing leapt aside, easily dodging the attack.

"Yah, what's the matter Negsy?" he taunted. "Usually, you're so much more proficient with a chainsaw. Lost your psychotic edge?" With a scream, Negaduck lunged again, the chainsaw biting into Darkwing's cloak this time as he tried to dodge. "You think I'm made of money? Your henchman Megavolt has already ruined one costume tonight!" Darkwing snarled, holding up the shredded purple material.

"Oh, I'm full of regret," replied Negaduck sarcastically, slashing again, the heavy blade missing again, but still forcing Darkwing back.

"Try a lozenge Negs, sounds like you've got a lizard in your throat!" taunted Darkwing, ducking another potentially fatal blow from the whirring blade. "Think you can mock me, eh?" hissed Negaduck, jumping forward again. This time, the deadly blade caught Darkwing a glancing blow, knocking him to the floor with a scream of pain.

"I'll put you out of our plan for good" muttered Negaduck, raising the chainsaw for the final blow. Suddenly he was knocked to one side as Launchpad cannonballed into him, sending the chainsaw flying. With a snarl, Negaduck punched Launchpad in the face, sending him spinning off.

"Hold it, you diabolical double!" shouted Darkwing, aiming his gas gun at Negaduck. But before he could fire, the weapon was knocked out of his hand as another one of the strange metallic ball-like creatures flew out of the darkness. With a snarl, Darkwing grabbed the chainsaw that Negaduck had dropped, viciously attacking the creature. It collapsed under the assault, the spinning teeth turning it into scrap metal in seconds. But it was too late – Negaduck had disappeared.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter IV**

Back in Audubon Bay Bridge, Darkwing paced around, watched by Launchpad.

"There is something rotten in St Canard tonight! Why was Megavolt stealing money? Usually that eccentric electrician is trying to liberate his beloved light bulbs – or use various insanely dangerous devices" added Darkwing, his mind lurching back to his encounter with Megavolt's tron-splitter. "It just doesn't make sense! And what was Negaduck doing at the docks? We searched the whole place, no sign of a hideout! And surely the rest of the fearsome five should have been with him! It's not like him to just team up with Megavolt. And who was that other figure on the train? Aargh, I should know that sinister shadow, I know I've seen that silhouette before! It certainly wasn't any of the fearsome five, which means… they must now be the Sinister Six!!"

"Dad, that's moronic" muttered Gosalyn, her head still buried in a comic book. "You saw three villains, and as you said, all of them would be there, or at least committing some kind of crime around St Canard." Her had suddenly shot up. "Maybe it wasn't Negaduck at all, but some body-possessing chainsaw-wielding zombie mutants from Outer Space!!"

"Now Gosalyn dear, _that's_ moronic" replied Darkwing, still pacing. "Maybe the other three are about to commit a crime right now!" He leapt into the seat of the nearest computer, madly pressing buttons and adjusting levers on the crime detection device.

"Are you going to sit there for a while, DW?" asked Launchpad. "Because it's almost 7am, so, heh, kind of time for breakfast, don'cha think?"

"Yeah yeah, whatever, go grab a hamburger hippo burger" muttered Darkwing impatiently. "I've got to be ready to foil the Sinister Six's next crime!"

"I still say it's stupid" muttered Gosalyn from her comic book. "Seriously Dad, if they had suddenly become the Sinister Six, why didn't Negaduck call them after Launchpad knocked him off you? Why did he just run?"

"Because, my little flower, he realised that fighting me is useless! That the masked mallard shall always triumph, that evil has no chance against Darkwing Duck! That the city of St Canard shall always be safe from his nefarious intentions while I, Darkwing Duck, patrol the streets…"

"Oh boy, he's off on an egotistical rant again" muttered Gosalyn, shutting off her dad's voice with practiced ease, and burying her head in the comic again.

"…for I am the terror that flaps in the and young lady, are you even listening!?"

Gosalyn put on her most innocent smile. "Oh, of course Dad. You were just saying how you are the loose staple that causes your new comic book to fall apart, and all villains fear you, and despite having – apparently – five other super villains at his command, Negaduck chose to run just because he's _so_ scared of you, despite the fact that moments before he was about to make you into two Darkwings."

"Yes, well … something like that…" replied Darkwing. "Anyway, I can't waste time! I've got crimes to detect!" With that, he jumped back into the chair, focused intently on the screen.

Seven hours later, Darkwing was still seated in front of the computer, thirty-two empty coffee cups littered around him. Gosalyn was asleep in the Thunderquack, and Launchpad was sitting on the hood, eating a hamburger hippo breakfast bap. "Anything yet, DW?" he asked, yawning. "I don't know about you, but I could sure do with hitting the hay sometime soon! Being up all night sure knocks it out of you!"

"AreyouquestioningmyjudgementLaunchpadofcoursewedon'tneedtosleepwecan'taffoardtosleepthere'scrimesouttherejustwaitingtobecommittedIknowittheSinisterSixwillstrikeanymomentnow!" Darkwing gabbled, his hands twitching slightly through the copious amounts of caffeine as he typed.

"Heh, you sure DW? You sound pretty hyper" Launchpad ventured.

"I'mfineI'mfineokgotitI'mfine! Ijustneedmorecoffee" replied Darkwing, reaching for the nearest mug, and raising it to his bill with a shaking hand. Finding it was empty, he set it back down again, and began to reach for the next one before suddenly collapsing on the desk, snoring.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter V**

"DW…. DW, wake up…."

Darkwing slowly opened his eyes groggily, to find Launchpad shaking his shoulder. "You ok DW? Heh, I think you crashed after all that coffee. I told you it wasn't good for you!" Darkwing suddenly shot up.

"Oh no! The coffee! How long was I asleep? What did I miss? Have the Sinister Six struck again yet?"

"Don't worry Dad!" replied Gosalyn, strolling past. "Nothing happened while you were asleep – no crimes, no Sinister Six, nothing."

"Oh" Darkwing slumped in the chair. "So… nothing's happened?"

"Nope" replied Launchpad. "It's all be quiet here, DW. Even Negaduck hasn't shown his face again."

"Well, that's to be expected!" replied Darkwing, sitting up again, his ego suddenly taking over. "No doubt their cowardly criminal kingpin Negaduck is even now recounting the tale of how I beat him to them. Yep, they'll all be quaking in their feathers – water – leaves – whatever! right now."

Suddenly, lights flashed and sirens blared, illuminating the room in flashes of red. Spinning round, Darkwing turned to the computer, punching buttons madly. "There's a robbery in progress at the bank! Again!" He jumped off the chair, striding purposefully towards the Thunderquack. "Launchpad – let's get dangerous!"

Darkwing burst into the bank, finding the doors still shut and undamaged. The heavy metal door leading to the safe was undamaged too.

"What's going on here?" Darkwing demanded to the cowering bank manager. "I thought you said someone was robbing this place!"

"They are!" stammered the bank manager. "First, the security guard heard noises inside the vault, so we looked at the CCTV. Look!" He pointed at the monitor, which displayed the inside of the vault. In it stood a strange little character. A brown-furred mole, he wore glasses, and was dressed smartly in a suit, busy loading money into a bag.

"Professor Moliarty!" screamed Darkwing. "Open the safe! Open the safe! I need to get in there and stop that subterranean crook!"

The safe door swung open, and blue smoke filled the room. Out of the smoke came a familiar voice. "I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am the rock that you just can't dig through! I – am – Darkwing – Duck!" As the smoke cleared, Moliarty gave an exclamation of shock. Abandoning his work, he slung the bag over one shoulder, diving into the ground, claws working to dig a tunnel.

"After him, Launchpad!" exclaimed Darkwing, jumping in the tunnel. "We can't let this blind bad guy bamboozle us!"

The two ran down the tunnel, following Moliarty. "We're closing, Launchpad!" shouted Darkwing in excitement. "I can sense that we're nearing his underground…"

Suddenly, the tunnel culminated right at the surface, in the middle of the St Canard park.

"…lair" finished Darkwing, looking around. "I don't get it! One: where did he go? And two: Moliarty hates sunlight! There is no way he'd head back to the surface!"

"Heh, maybe he doubled back to try and trick us?" suggested Launchpad.

"No!" shouted Darkwing. "I've got it! He must have doubled back to try and trick us! Quick! Back down the tunnel!"

Thirty minutes later, Darkwing and Launchpad were back in the Audubon Bay Bridge Tower, caked in dirt. "Ok, so maybe he didn't double back" muttered Darkwing. "I just don't get it! Moliarty couldn't have outrun us – not in sunlight, on the surface. And if he didn't tunnel somewhere else, where could he have gone? And he didn't even manage to take much, just some cash and a set of printing plates. I've got it!" he shouted suddenly. "It's not the Sinister Six, no, that was stupid. It must be the Stupendous Seven! Moliarty must be in league with them too! Negaduck must've been waiting to pick him up and escape!"

"Dad!" shouted Gosalyn. "Are you just going to keep adding villains to the group? What next? The Evil Eight? The Naughty Nine? The Troublesome Ten? Something tells me that this isn't the work of a group."

"And pray, how would you know that?" asked Darkwing.

"Well, this is coming from the Quivering Quack, who saved you from Negaduck, and…"

"Yes, yes, yes, alright!" Darkwing shouted. "Ok, I give in. If it's not the Sinister Six or the Stupendous Seven, what are Negaduck, Megavolt and Moliarty doing in league? I just don't get it! There must be something that I've missed!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter VI**

Splatter Phoenix idly doodled in the air with her paintbrush, painting a few flying clocks, a dancing saxophone, and another of the electric balls she had used in the first bank heist before scrubbing them all out as Negaduck walked in the cave entrance, dropping the sack full of money.

"What did you get that for?" asked Splatter Phoenix, exasperated. "We don't need money! Just as long as you got the plates…"

"What do you take me for, a fool?" hissed Negaduck, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing the plates. "Thisss detractsss attention away from the platesss. Though Darkwing Duck issss after ussss. He could be a problem. I think he ssstill sssusspects that it'sss Megavolt, Negaduck and Moliarty committing thesse crimes, sssso we should be sssafe. But we might assss well make ssssure."

"We can deal with that bourgeois art-hating do-gooder when we've forged this" replied Splatter Phoenix. "With your skills, these plates and my ink, we can forge the perfect fake money! Finally, I can complete my experimentation into new ink! With it, I can right the wrongs done to art by those bourgeois traditionalists who call themselves 'creative' these days!"

"And I can finally get my revenge on all thossse who tormented me, asss well asss becoming the richessst duck alive! Alongssside you, of courssse" he hissed, looking at Splatter Phoenix. "Think of what I could do! Jussst let me sssslip into sssomething more comfortable." Within the blink of an eye, Negaduck had disappeared. In his place stood a slender creature that looked to be part way between a duck and a chameleon, dressed in a green roll-neck, coat and sea-blue dress, with wild purple-blue hair and yellow eyes. Camille Chameleon strode forward to the table, picking up the plates and looking happily at them.

"Sssso, Ssssplattersss, let'ssss get rich!" she grinned.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter VII**

Drake Mallard furrowed his brow in concentration, his entire being focused on the task at hand. With a few deft strokes, he sent Bushroot flying backwards, trapping him in his own ivy. His hands danced, and Darkwing strode forward, hedge-trimmers raised, ready to apprehend the heinous hydrangea. Suddenly, the typewriter clicked dry again, Drake's story being cut short. "Not again!" exclaimed Drake, pushing the chair away from the desk. "I finally get a bit of time to rewrite my comic how it _should_ be, with me as the _heroic_ hero, and I run out of ink!" With a sigh, he stood up, stretching, and crossed to the door, starting to unlock the various security measures on the door.

Fifteen minutes later, he was driving down to town to the art shop, having finally navigated past the locks and booby-traps on the attic door. Parking the car, he walked in, grabbing a few ribbons and heading to the counter, joining the queue behind a tall female duck garbed in a long black overcoat, who was buying various inks. Just as he started to hand over the money, something went off in Drake's brain. _I know that figure! _he thought in shock. _That's the amoral abstract artist, Splatter Phoenix!_ Dropping the change, he dashed out of the shop into a nearby alleyway for a quick change.

Splatter Phoenix strode down the street, head down, collar up. She doubted that Darkwing would be around – after all, she'd even bought the inks legally! – and Camille had plans for him, but there was no sense in taking chances. They had the plates and the ink now, and all they needed to do was move the stuff from Camille's cave to Splatter's art studio, and they would be set to be two very rich ducks. With that money, she could finally finish her research into her new ink, completing the most potent paintbrush she had devised yet. Then, with that bourgeois comic-lover out of the way, St Canard would find itself heading an art revolution across the world! She and Camille would be the overlords of a new world, a world of abstract expressionism, not this bland bourgeois sculpture that dared to masquerade itself as art. Lost in her thoughts, she almost walked right into the blue cloud.

"I am the terror that flaps in the – well, day! I am the paint lid that you just can't open! I am Darkwing Duck!" Staggering back, coughing, Splatter Phoenix waved a hand to disperse the smoke. "Well, if it isn't you again" she snarled.

"I must confess I'm more surprised to see you" retorted Darkwing. "Last time I saw you, you were a puddle of paint on the pavement! How exactly are you back, you diabolically dark Da Vinci?"

"Oh, I think that's a story best saved for another day," replied Splatters, whipping out her paintbrush, the pink liquid flowing as she deftly swung the brush around. "But now, I have to run, I'm afraid. I'll leave you with some _true_ art!" With a gulp, Darkwing looked up at the monstrosity she had painted. Fifteen feet tall, the creature looked to be a combination of an eagle, gorilla and shark. A sleek grey fishy body and head made up most of the thing, with eagle-like legs supporting it, and feathered wings sprouting from its back. Two hairy pink arms protruded in place of the pectoral fins, which reached down and grabbed Darkwing, lifting him up to Splatter's creation's face. The thing grinned at him, revealing a mouth full of sharp teeth, before opening its jaws, pushing Darkwing closer.

Struggling frantically, Darkwing was unable to wriggle free from the monster's grasp. With a frantic effort, he drew his gas gun, aiming and firing at the monstrosity's mouth. With a singularly unimpressive puff of smoke, the canister sped forward, lodging itself in the creature's mouth. Instinctively biting down, gas exploded everywhere, sending Spatter Phoenix's potential purveyor of pain into a laughing fit. Free from its iron grasp, Darkwing somersaulted through the air, dashing into the art shop. He reappeared a second later, cramming a can into the muzzle of his gas gun.

"Eat turpentine, you malicious masterpiece, you!" he shouted, squeezing the trigger and drenching the monster in the dark fluid. With a scream, it quickly dissolved, becoming nothing more than a puddle on the floor. "Yep yep yep" Darkwing stated, dusting off his suit. "Now, get back here Splatters, you antisocial abstract artist, you!" But it was too late. The streets were deserted, and there was no sign of Splatter Phoenix.


End file.
